Crimson Knightmare
by Demons Anarchy of Pride
Summary: You are beyond redemption, but given a new chance to make a new life. You shall be tried and judged, and you shall be weighed on the scales. Protect she who carries the wind, he who is without identity, and she who understands the world. You are also without identity, but your hands are forever stained with blood... Never forget this, Devourlord. Revya/Agnes Ringabel/Edea


Crimson Knightmare

"_I'm the baddest of the bad! The maddest of the mad! The killer of kings and destroyer of worlds!" –Gig, the Master of Death_

Chapter 1: The Boy Beyond Atonement

-Part 1-

"Spin..."

"Measure..."

"Snip..."

"Spin..."

"Measure..."

"Snip..."

"Spin..."

"Measure..."

"Snip..."

The three voices continued to chant, each possessing a cold and bone-chilling tone. One sounded hoarse and old, another venomous and icy, and the last spiteful and young. He could hear a symphony of sorts, each echoing out from the darkness.

It was all he knew, in the end. He had lost all sense of time, and had lost all sense of self. He no longer remembered anything, save for the memories that screamed out eternally, faces contorted in fear, anguish, and rage flashing by in his head. Some frightened him, others left nothing. His only companion and rival was what forever remained with him.

It was his enemy. _It was his friend._

It was his weakness. _It was his strength._

It was his evil. _It was his saving grace._

The pitch-black void that forever surrounded him: it was the only thing he had left. How long had he been trapped here, he wondered. A year? Ten years, perhaps? A hundred years, maybe?

Not that it mattered, he would always be here. This was his sentence, his judgment for his sins. He had long forgotten what his sin was, but he knew it was something that earned him a far worse end than this. Trapped inside a sword for eternity, with the only person who truly mattered to him?

'_She should have just left me here to rot alone...'_ he thought bitterly, 'looking' up at the darkness. His 'arms' were heavy, lifting the left up and stretching out his 'hand', as if reaching for something. He had done this so many times before, but he had no idea why he did it. Perhaps it was a way to keep his sanity? Oh, wait, he had long lost his sanity.

Now that he thought about it, who had joined him in this prison? He 'looked' around, but he found no one. Had they perhaps been freed from this place, like he had wanted for her? Who was "her", anyway? He knew it was someone very important to him, but he couldn't remember. He recalled a girl with green hair and a bell around her neck, but that was it. He no longer remembered her name.

He had long forgotten his own name.

"Spin..."

"Measure..."

"Snip..."

He 'sighed', becoming quickly annoyed with these new voices. Who in the hell were they, anyway? Was it the ones who sealed him from outside mocking him? Oh, wait, who were they again?

"Sins beyond forgiveness..." spoke the hoarse voice.

"Never to be granted salvation..." spoke the icy voice.

"But redemption can be obtained..." spoke the spiteful voice.

He 'frowned'. _'What gibberish are they speaking of now? First something about a thread, and now this?'_ he wondered before noticing that a pair of green strings had begun to coil around his 'hand'. The darkness began to give away, revealing flesh and bone with pale skin.

"Listen closely..." the hoarse voice advised.

"Do you hear her plead...?" the icy voice asked.

"Can you reach out for her...?" the spiteful voice pondered.

He could 'feel' more and more of the darkness covering him beginning to slip away, as if it were sludge being rinsed off with water. He wore no clothes, revealing pale skin. His hair was bright red, and his eyes a pair of molten gold. He could faintly make out the outline of a girl, her voice muffled in his ears. As the icy voice stated, it sounded as if she were pleading.

"You can never be saved..." the hoarse voice reminded him.

"But answer her call..." the icy voice stated.

"And you shall be granted redemption..." the spiteful voice added.

The strings began to slowly coil around more of him, and his vision becoming clearer. He could see the girl clearly now: dark hair, sad-ridden eyes, and a brilliant white dress. He had no idea why, but he could feel a breeze brushing up against him. His hand brushed against something between him and her, as if barring the way.

Her voice rang out clearly. She was begging for help, asking for someone to save this world. Who was she to ask for his help? He had slaughtered thousands of people to ease the pain that was buried deep in his heart. He had been betrayed by the person who he thought to be like a mother, and was left cold, bitter, and broken.

And yet... he couldn't help but try to reach out for her. The glass-like barrier between the two began to crack. He could see the girl desperately trying to reach out for him, her grip on the edge of the black platform slipping away. He could see death and despair, the void between all, waiting for her.

Just as her grip loosened, the barrier shattered, and the strings severed. His hand reached out for hers, and the darkness torn asunder by a brilliant green light that engulfed them both.

"Never forget your sins as the Devourlord..." the hoarse voice advised him.

"Revya of Predesto is dead and gone, but the Devourlord remains..." the icy voice reminded.

"Answer us, what is your wish...?" the spiteful voice asked of him.

His golden eyes bore into hers, and for the first time, his voice rang out in the white void that replaced the darkness.

"I... refuse to stay!"

"Then the die is cast...!" the hoarse voice roared.

"The Devourlord, be born again...!" the icy voice shrieked.

"And we now grant you a new name..." the spiteful voice screamed.

And thus, the three voices spoke in unison.

"Remember you're name, Devourlord! From this moment, you are..."

And so, destiny began to play its hymn once more.

_The Wheel of Fate is turning._

_**Now, Let The Crimson Knightmare Begin**_

[Play Intro: Naihi Shinsho by One Ok Rock]


End file.
